


Someone Like Me

by TARDISTraveller42



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Conversations, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, Post-Episode: s10e08 The Lie of the Land
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28585848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TARDISTraveller42/pseuds/TARDISTraveller42
Summary: "You said, ‘among seven billion, there’s someone like you’. But I feel like I don’t even know who I am anymore.”Bill has a lot to work through after The Lie of the Land. And as she hands in yet another overdue essay, she works through them in that messy, awkward way that all of our problems must eventually be worked through.Basically, Bill went through a Lot in the span of about 4 episodes and that needs to be addressed.
Relationships: Twelfth Doctor & Bill Potts
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Someone Like Me

Someone Like Me

Bill stepped into the office. Bill handed over the essay. And Bill faked a smile.

She’d been doing that a lot lately. All three: stepping into the office, handing over essays, and faking smiles. That’s what happened when you had a tutor insisting on making up for the last six months of missed classes. 

That’s what happened when you spent those six months struggling to hold onto your humanity.

“2,000 words,” Bill said, as the paper glided from her hand to the Doctor’s desk, “on the concept of parallel universes. One of my best, I think.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, studying her face for a moment. She did her best to hide what she was really thinking; what she’d been thinking incessantly for the past three weeks. And apparently it worked, because he looked away without a word. She released a breath as he starting flicking through the essay.

“2,054 words, actually,” he mused.

Bill’s jaw dropped. Sometimes, even still, he astonished her. How on earth had he known? How?!

But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her excitement; not today. She really wasn’t in the mood for all of that. So instead, she smiled. It briefly reached her eyes and then dropped back down again.

Out of sight, out of mind.

“Sometimes,” she said, if only to fill the silence with words instead of thoughts, “I think you say things just to sound clever.”

The Doctor looked up from the essay, raising that eyebrow again. He smiled, this time. 

His lasted even less time than her own. 

And with that, the essay was back on the desk, the Doctor was sitting back in his seat, and Bill was picking up her bookbag. She didn’t have a lesson today; just a late night shift in the kitchen. She wasn’t looking forward to it, exactly. But for once she was glad that she was working instead of learning.

Her head was full enough already, thank you.

Just before she reached the door, though, the Doctor called her name. She turned, expecting to find him standing at the ready by the TARDIS, ready to whisk her off on an adventure before Nardole came back from the shops. But he was still at his desk. Sulking, it looked like. 

No, not sulking. Sad. Confused? It was difficult to tell. But he definitely wasn’t acting like himself.

“Yeah?” Bill asked, shifting the book bag to a more comfortable spot on her shoulder. 

The Doctor didn’t respond immediately, a silent invitation for her to close the door and sit down. She hesitated for a moment. Funny, she’d never hesitated before. But today the prospect of sitting, talking, listening, speaking...it was almost too much to bear.

Almost.

The door shut, Bill returned to her usual chair. She sat more stiff than usual, back straight and hands folded on her lap. Her heart was beating funny, too. Faster than normal. As if she were sitting for an interview, or an interrogation. She’d faced both in her life with less nerves than this, actually.

The Doctor mimicked her odd posture, sitting up straight in his own seat with his hands on the desk. 

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah; course,” she lied.

She hated to do that to him: lie. But how could she not? How could she let him know all of the dark stuff that had been racing through her mind? How could she do that to him?

And yet, at the same time, she wondered how he could have done all that to her. How could he cause her so much anxiety; so much pain; so much guilt?

She shook her head, turning her eyes away so he couldn’t read her expression as clearly. It wasn’t his fault; none of it was. It wasn’t hers either. It was the monks. Fascist monks from space. So getting angry at him or, or at herself...it wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t erase those six months.

“I just,” she said finally, feeling her heart skip a beat as her mouth formed the words she’d held inside for too long. “I can’t just get over what happened. It’s like the world ended, and we’re the only ones who remember it happening.”

The Doctor was quiet. Unusual for him. And, if she were honest, quite annoying. How could he have nothing to say? No lessons for her? No words of encouragement or sympathy? Nothing?! Now?!

“Right after all that happened,” she continued, “you said, ‘among seven billion, there’s someone like you’. But I feel like I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

The words rang through the air, punishing her eardrums almost as much as they had punished her aching throat. There was a wave of emotions trying to gurgle up, but she wouldn't allow it. Not now. Not yet.

“You’re Bill Potts,” the Doctor said. “Savior of humanity.”

Bill scoffed, turning to the ceiling with a disbelieving smile.

“That’s all you’ve got?” she asked. 

The Doctor’s head perked up. That expression showed up on his face; the one he always made when he was figuring out a problem, trying to save a planet. Bill usually loved that face. It usually meant that they were about to fix something.

Under the circumstances, she hated that face. 

“Bill...are you angry with me?”

“No. Yes.” Bill gritted her teeth, shaking her head. “I don’t know!”

She stood abruptly, knocking the table so hard that she definitely bruised her knee. She didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything. Nothing existed beyond her and her suffocating feelings and his stupid sad-looking face and this stuffy office…

“Six months. Six months, I thought I was going to lose my mind. But I held on, or I thought I did. And-and then I finally find my best friend and...I shot you, Doctor! I actually, literally shot you with a real...with a real gun that I thought was really, really loaded.” Bill paused as her breath caught in her throat, lungs screaming out for oxygen. Dammit, that reminded her of another one of her pent-up traumas: chasm forge. And the tears were flowing down her cheeks and she was standing over the Doctor’s desk crying and this was not how she wanted today to go.

“You said that I was...was brave and wonderful. Brave a-and wonderful people don’t shoot their best friend in the chest. They don’t….” Bill swallowed again, wiping her face. “And then not a day later, _not a day later_ you were sacrificing yourself for me. When you were connected to that monk a-and you got thrown across the room, I thought…”

Bill’s voice finally stopped working. She wiped furiously at her tears, willing them away. But she just couldn’t stop. Six months. And all of that after knowing it was her who had handed over the planet, because her best friend hadn’t told her he was blind. 

What a year. 

Bill took a breath, then said, “It’s just been a lot to handle. And I feel like I’m on my own. Nearly everyone’s forgotten about the monks and everything. And you and Nardole are perfectly fine. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing,” the Doctor said, his first word in quite some time. His voice was nearly as weary and broken as her own. He barely managed to blink back his own tears as he rose from the desk and, slowly, approached her. “There is nothing wrong with you, Bill.”

“Yeah?” she asked quietly, shaking her head. “I feel like I’m going mad. I...I never want to hurt you again.”

“You’re not going mad,” the Doctor whispered. “And you never hurt me.”

“But I could have! That’s the point; I didn’t know that gun wasn’t loaded. I was ready to kill you because...because I was upset, and angry.” Against all of her wishes, more tears blinked into Bill’s eyes. “What kind of a person am I?”

“You’re a person who’s been through a hell of a lot,” the Doctor whispered. “Too much, in far too short a time. And that was my fault. Do not blame yourself for this.”

“How can I not? I should have realized you were hiding something from me months ago. Or-or I shouldn’t have let you go to the lab by yourself.”

“Bill-”

“I-I don’t know if I can take any more of this, Doctor. I...I want to, so badly. But…”

Bill backed up a few paces, feeling pangs of guilt and hurt hit her chest in pulses. She knew she was hurting him, even as she spoke. And she knew she was hurting herself, talking about giving up the best thing that had ever happened to her. But somewhere she hoped this was the rational choice; the right choice. Maybe she’d never have another amazing day again, but at least she’d be safe from getting hurt, right? And maybe that was enough.

“Bill,” the Doctor said, slowly taking a step forward. “I will never make you go anywhere. And I fully understand if you want to never see me again. I’ll...I’ll go. I’ll take the Vault, Nardole; you’ll never have to see us again. If you want, I can even wipe your memory.” He took another step forward. “All I want is for you to be happy, no matter what that means.”

Bill looked up at him. He was putting on such a brave face for her. Doing his best so she wouldn’t feel pressured or guilted. This really was her choice. Not like the monks, making an offer at the eleventh hour of the doomsday clock. Just an honest, non-judgmental offer.

And suddenly, Bill knew her answer. She’d known it all along, really.

She crossed the remaining space between herself and the Doctor. And with her tears welling up again, she opened her arms wide and buried herself in his chest. She wrapped him in an embrace so tight that she’d probably bruised one of his ribs. And there, face nestled against his jumper, she let herself cry. 

And more importantly, she let herself smile.

His arms slowly returned the hug. And there, weepy and lost to the world, Bill felt like she was home. Here, with her best friend. Here, with the closest person to a parental figure in her life. Here, in familiar surroundings with no monks, no aliens, no telepathic attacks, no Vaults, no TARDISes. Nothing but her and the Doctor and love; always love.

“We don’t have to go anywhere,” the Doctor said somewhere above Bill’s head. “We’ll stay on Earth for a while. Maybe visit the shops, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bill’s croaky voice made out. She cleared her throat and added, “I’d like that.”

“Me too.” The Doctor was quiet for a moment, as their hug continued. “And I will never, _never_ test you like I did a few weeks ago. That was stupid. Cruel.”

Bill wiper her face in his sweater, in almost the exact location where she had been about to shoot him three weeks prior. There’d been no bullet holes. How had she not noticed that back then? There had been no sign of injury beyond the Doctor’s ridiculous acting.

But she pushed away these self-deprecating thoughts and nodded.

“Yes,” she agreed, “It was.”

Moments passed, lost in this strangely out-of-time hug. And then the moment ended. 

Bill pulled away, wiping the last remnants of tears from her eyes. The Doctor left his hand on her shoulder as they steadied themselves and returned to the ‘real world’. The sun was just starting to set. Bill’s shift in the kitchen would begin in half an hour or so. 

“I gotta get going soon,” Bill said, making no move to exit.

The Doctor took a deep breath, turning around the room. When he realized Bill was still hanging around, he started toward the TARDIS.

“Cuppa?” he asked.

“Oh, definitely.”

They shared a smile.

And then they shared a cup of tea.

And then they shared many days together, not fighting aliens but visiting the shops. Not combatting ferocious enemies but rather the lingering effects of a mission that didn’t end when the TARDIS landed back at the university. And together, slowly, they mended their friendship. And together, slowly, they healed.


End file.
